


Spoil Matt Day

by coffeeandfeathers



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Massage, Post Season 1, chinese food and beer, matt is a buff mf, matt needs to be spoiled, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:02:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandfeathers/pseuds/coffeeandfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy institutes one night a week for Matt to relax and since constant physical exertion leaves Matt perpetually sore, Foggy decides to help. Tooth-rotting fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoil Matt Day

Matt was hurting. This was not an uncommon state of being for him, but it worried Foggy nonetheless. It worried him when Matt had to push himself out of his desk chair and hide a wince so he could shake a client’s hand. It worried him when Matt rolled his neck back and an audible crack came from his shoulders and vertebrae. It especially worried him when Matt tensed upon being touched casually on the shoulder or back and Foggy had to spend the next hour worrying that he’d accidentally touched a bruise or something worse. Matt was tense all the time now, from when he walked into the office to when they packed up and left at night. Foggy didn’t need super senses to tell how unbelievably sore his friend was, how he just needed to lie down and rest and be taken care of.

At first, Foggy considered buying him a massage. But Matt didn’t like to be touched and if the idea of a stranger rubbing oils into his body made Foggy uncomfortable, Matt would probably flip the fuck out and go full ninja in his underwear. So, the massage was out. In fact, any outside attempt to make Matt feel better physically would probably be out too. The dude considered a hot shower a luxury. Anything more would just make him anxious.

However, Matt _had_ tentatively agreed to a weekly Spoil Matt Day on Foggy’s insistence. Spoil Matt Days usually consisted of takeout and good beer and Foggy narrating a funny movie, and he was still shocked that Matt had agreed to them at all. But it was nice to know that at least one night a week, Matt was with him, enjoying himself, and not out getting his ass kicked in some dark alley. Karen sometimes joined them (despite not knowing that Matt needed spoiling because he was a friggin’ superhero and not just an overworked lawyer who didn’t know how to take care of himself) but this week she said she couldn’t make it and to have fun without her anyway. Foggy expected Matt to want to reschedule, but he just smiled from behind his desk and told her to enjoy whatever subpar activity she was ditching them for. Karen gave him the finger and Foggy watched Matt pretend not to notice it.

That weekend, Matt showed up at Foggy’s apartment around dinner time with two six packs and warm, tousled hair fresh out of the shower.

“You really think we’re gonna drink all that by ourselves?” Foggy asked, and Matt grinned, set the beer on the kitchen counter.

“We don’t have to.”

“Hey, you brought it. Shit, this stuff is _good.”_ Foggy picked up a bottle to examine the label. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Some of us have taste.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you have super tastebuds.” Foggy reached for his bottle opener and cracked open two bottles before handing one to Matt. “Didn’t even know if you’d show up.”

To his surprise, Matt looked a little hurt. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you hate being spoiled. I’ve been expecting you to put the kibosh on this since we started.”

Matt shrugged, then winced and rolled his shoulder a few times. “I don’t hate being spoiled.”

“You absolutely do. This is the only way I can get you to do something that’s not working out or fighting crime.”

“I do other things.”

“Letting Claire dig bullets out of you does not count.”

“That was one time,” Matt muttered to himself, so quiet Foggy almost didn’t hear.

“Yeah, and everyone involved nearly had a goddamn heart attack when she pulled that thing out of you. Salud.” He clinked his bottle against Matt’s and took a slug. “Oh my god, this is good.”

“Told ya.” Matt took a sip from his own bottle.

“Chinese tonight? I was thinking Chinese. Unless you want something else.”

“Chinese sounds good.”

“All right, killer. Beef and broccoli, yeah? You want egg rolls?”

Matt palmed at his stomach, flat under his t-shirt. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

“Oh god, is this your cheat day? Do you even get cheat days?”

Matt shrugged, took another sip of beer.

“We’re getting all the egg rolls, and crab rangoon. You look like a buff dead person.”

To Foggy’s surprise, Matt laughed and flexed the arm not holding his beer. “Do I?”

The bottom dropped out of Foggy’s stomach as he watched Matt’s t-shirt stretch around his shoulders. “Y-yeah. You do. So now we gotta fatten you up so you stop being the hot one.”

“I’ve never been the hot one.” Matt flopped onto the couch and then immediately sat up straight, his shoulders tensing in pain.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Murdock. I think I’m gonna get a bunch of those mini donut things too.”  
“I didn’t,” Matt said, but his voice tightened in pain as he rubbed his lower back.

“Dude, I can tell that you’re hurting. You walk like a freaking Ken doll. How is every joint in your body not worn down to a nub by now?”

Matt took a long slug of beer. “I don’t know.”

“See, this is why Spoil Matt Days are so important. You need to take a load off and just chill. Though I think you need more than just relaxing for those muscles. You want a hot pack or some ice or something?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re most definitely not fine.” Foggy sat down on the couch next to him, typing their order into the Chinese restaurant’s website. “What hurts?”

Matt looked at his knees. “Everything.”

“What was that?”

“I said everything.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so forthcoming. What hurts the most?”

Matt shrugged. “Back. Shoulders, my neck. My arms.”

“Are you like … injured? Or just sore?”

“Sore, mostly. A little bruised.”

“So in Matt-speak, that means a lot bruised.”

“There’s a moderate amount of bruising.”

“Well, thanks for being honest with me. Hopefully a night off will help.” He nudged Matt’s shoulder gently and Matt smiled tightly at his knees.

-

“Oh god, okay, I’m tapping out.” Foggy leaned against the back of the couch and rubbed at his stomach. “That was way too much. I don’t know why I thought the donut things were a good idea but they were not.”

“Mm.” Matt said from the other side of the couch, his mouth full.

“Christ.” Foggy belched into his fist and eyed the wreckage of plastic takeout containers on the coffee table. “I’ve got MSG poisoning, I’m calling it now. I’m more Chinese food than I am human at this point.”

Matt swallowed, then hiccuped. “Same.”

“Didn’t know you could eat so much in one sitting, Murdock. Props to you.”

“I was hungry.” Matt was looking in the general direction of the last egg roll with dangerous intent.

“Hey, if you want it, be my guest.”

“I’m trying to decide if eating it would push me over the edge into stomachache territory.”

“Well, I’m already nearing that municipality, so get rid of it before I do something regretful.”

Matt shrugged and leaned forward, his full stomach pushing out in front of him. “It _is_ Spoil Matt Day.”

“That’s the spirit. Are you gonna be horribly offended if I unbutton my pants? Five beers and a mountain of Chinese food is kinda threatening the structural integrity of my waistband.”

“Go ahead.” Matt pushed down the final egg roll, then sank into the couch, panting a little. “I’m considering it myself.”

“This is called bulking up in weightlifter terms, right? So now you’ll get even more buff.”

Matt laughed, running both hands over his belly. “Something like that.”

“Hey,” Foggy glanced over, flushed and a little dizzy from drinking. “Does your back still hurt?”

Matt shrugged. “It hurts most of the time.”

“Well _that’s_ no good. I was gonna buy you a massage but I didn’t think you’d like being touched by strangers.”

Matt shivered. “I wouldn’t.”

“But you’re like one big knot of pain, dude. You need to work some of those kinks out or you’re only gonna feel worse.”

Matt looked up, eyes glazed. “Are you offering?”

Foggy’s heart leapt into his mouth and he swallowed it, hoping Matt was too drunk to notice. “I mean, if it would make you uncomfortable…”

“It wouldn’t.” Matt smiled lazily and Foggy had to fight his heart down again.

“Okay. Well, lie on your stomach then.”

Matt made a little noise. “I think I’m too full for that right now.”

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Lean forward over the arm of the couch and drape your arms over it.”

“Do you want me to take off my shirt?”

 _Dammit, Foggy, chill. He can hear you losing your shit._ “I mean, sure, if you want to.”

Matt pulled his t-shirt over his head and had Foggy been a character in an 18th century romance novel, he would have swooned. Instead, he cursed.

“Jesus, Murdock. A _little_ bruised? Moderately bruised doesn’t even cover it. I’m gonna be able to rub like two square inches of back, dude.”

“You rubbing my bruises won’t hurt as much as my muscles do.”

“Whatever you say. Tell me if I’m hurting you, though. Or if I should press harder or lighter or whatever. Can you hear muscles?”

“Yeah.”

“Gross. Tell me if they’re like … doing something weird.”

“I’ll let you know. Be careful.”

Foggy’s knowledge of massage therapy was gleaned mostly from rubbing Marci’s shoulders and feet in college while she complained about her shoes, but he figured Matt would probably be a little more difficult.

“Oh.” Matt’s shoulders immediately tensed when Foggy placed his hands on them.

“Did that hurt?”

“No. It’s just been a long time…” _Since someone touched me there_ , he seemed to say without finishing, and Foggy worked his thumbs into Matt’s trapezius, spreading the muscle under his fingers. Matt took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Does that hurt?”

“A little,” Matt said, and Foggy removed his hands.

“No, no, not in a bad way. My muscles are just sore. They sound like rope.”

“Gross, dude. You’ve probably got a lot of lactic acid built up in here. I’m not a massage therapist but you’re like almost exclusively knots.”

Matt huffed out a little laugh. “I know. You can stop if your hands get tired.”

“I’m just getting started. I’m gonna pick a knot and just work down from there. That okay with you?”

“Mm,” Matt said, and Foggy dug his fingers in again. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in strength and after a few minutes, Matt was slumped over the arm of the couch, his eyes barely open.

“You doing okay, Matty?”

“Mhm.” Matt sighed. “That feels good.”

“You feel more relaxed.”

“I am more relaxed.”

Foggy worked down from Matt’s shoulders to his scapula, finding knots and stretching the muscle until it yielded. “Are you falling asleep?”

Matt yawned and sank deeper into the arm of the couch. “A little. It feels good.”

“You mean you can’t drink a six pack, eat half your body weight in Chinese food and have your back rubbed without getting sleepy? What kind of superhero are you?”

“A comfortable one.”

“If you get kidnapped, all they have to do is feed you good food and give you a massage and you’ll come apart like an orange.”

“I don’t think that’s what kidnappers do.”

“If they saw how cute you looked right now, they absolutely would.” Foggy wanted to cram the words back into his mouth as soon as they fell out. Matt could hear his heart, he could _tell_ that Foggy was telling the truth. Maybe he could blame it on being drunk?

“You think I look cute all beat up?”

 _Fuck it._ “I think you look cute all the time.”

Matt made a little happy noise. “I’d tell you that you look cute too if I could see you.”

“Har har, Murdock.” But Foggy’s chest tightened at the words. “I can’t hear your heartbeat. You could be lying.”

“My gauge of attraction is different from yours.”

“Which means?”

“Which means someone like you… I mean, you’re soft. You smell nice. Your voice makes me feel calmer. You ground everything when you walk into the room.” Matt was getting quieter and quieter, his ears flaming red. Foggy couldn’t breathe.

“And?”

“And that’s perfect for me.” Matt pulled his arms up over his head. “I’m sorry.”

Foggy let his hands rest flat on Matt’s back. “Why are you sorry?”

“I knew you liked me. I like you. I should have said something but I was just…”

“Scared?”

Matt swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Foggy’s chest warmed. “I was scared too. C’mere.”

Matt slowly lifted his head and turned to face him, his eyes wide and nervous.

“Can I…” Foggy started, but Matt was already reaching for him.

-

“Matt, Matt.” Foggy pulled away, gasping, his lips sore from the pull of Matt’s teeth. “Matt, I hate to do this to you but I am way too full for anything active right now.”

Matt just pressed his face against Foggy’s shoulder, panting. “Me too. But my back still hurts. I mean, if you’re willing…”

“Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

This time, Foggy held nothing back. He pressed his lips against every knot that he pulled apart, stroked every bruise, breathed soft against Matt’s neck and into his hair. He got as close as he’d never had the courage to ask permission for, and Matt leaned into every touch like he’d been starving for them.

“Matty, oh god.” Foggy traced his lips over Matt’s spine, kissing his sacrum and the back of his head. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You can’t even see my face.” Matt sounded very far away, like he couldn’t believe this was happening to him and was speaking quietly as to not break the spell.

“You’re beautiful all over.”

“Even though I’m all beat up?”

“Even though you’re all beat up. Is this helping?”

“Yes,” Matt breathed. “Why didn’t we do this sooner, oh god.”

“I’ve driven you to blasphemy.” Foggy kissed the spot behind Matt’s burning right ear. “I tamed the devil.”

Matt turned over suddenly, his face flushed. “Yes,” he said, and then he was reaching up again and Foggy was kissing the lips he’d stared at for years and he was holding his best friend in his arms and he could feel Matt’s heart beating a tattoo against his chest.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna need a lot more Spoil Matt Days,” Foggy said, and he felt Matt smile against his neck.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic galloped away from me. I love to spoil my boys though.


End file.
